I have some hand-written journal entries that I intend to post here eventually, for the sake of preserving the story within my tattered notebook pages filled with random spanish hangman games and hastily scribbled travel budgets saying “Morgan owes Sarah 25,000 pesos” (Chilean). But, in the meantime, I figured I’d give a quick update into post-abroad life while procrastinating my homework back in good-old-W.E.B. Du Bois library.
I left Buenos Aires on Christmas day after spending 2 weeks traveling around (and playing tour guide) with my dad. I navigated our way through all of our hotel and restaurant and tour experiences as the designated Spanish speaker. It was tough at times to constantly switch back and forth between languages, but we had a great time and got to see some really cool things, and I got to show my dad some places I was familiar with- giving him an insight into some of my experiences. But, I’ll make a post for that in itself someday. Maybe. I’m not denying that I have a lot of free time but Netflix is just so tempting…
I was a wealth of emotions upon my return. I opened the window on my connecting flight from Houston to Boston and guffawed at the sight of snow- completely forgetting it was winter. I proudly wore my llama sweaters and adopted grungy Buenos Aires style, and couldn’t help but speaking in Spanish. “Vamos a ver” and “que vas a hacer” became so thoroughly ingrained into my vocabulary that I still say them today.
I returned back to school a mere 3 weeks later. I was finally legal to go to estadounidense bars, so those first few weeks back in Amherst were a booze-filled haze where I drowned all my sorrows in green tea shots and liquid cocaines at Stacker’s. I was absorbed into a great new group of friends and any tension with my roommates I was expecting upon arrival had fizzled and all was well. Now, the semester is still going well. Easy classes, solid job, nice balance between work and play. All in all a happy existence.
Every now and again (okay, more often than I’d like to admit) my heart aches to return to South America. In fact, the other night I dreamt that I got dreadlocks and a septum piercing and was living on some Colombian beach in a shack with no intention of leaving. I’ve never felt more complete than I did in my time in Argentina. The people I met were the most open-minded, good-hearted people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and there’s something so fulfilling about exploring and living by the seat of your pants with some spontaneous, adventurous buddies. It provides an outlet to learn more about yourself and your own values. Total life reassessment. Seriously.
So, 3 months later, and my transition into la vida norteamericana is pretty complete… But that doesn’t diminish my love for that place that stole my heart.
For the time between drinking heavily for like 6 days in a row and my trip to Salta, I was justifiably tired out. The weather sucked, and I was generally sad about the imminent loss of all my friends. But we made the best of it during this very emotional time and had some good last days.
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Tuesday, November 5th, we had our final Jobs night as a group, which had become a sort of a Martes tradition because of the 3 beers for 30 pesos deal. Becky also decided it was going to be her first night getting a drink! So we all cheered her on as she got a frozen margarita.
Played some ping pong and saw the rest of the University of Belgrano, as everyone else was also celebrating the last Tuesday of their program. I’m in a different program and have an extra month, luckily.
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Wednesday, I finally wrote in this thing: attempting to catch up since I was super far behind (even then). Then, Katie and Morgan and I finally got together to plan our trip to Salta. All we had were our flights, which I had changed (very expensively) a few days earlier to extend it from Thursday to Monday. We decided on a hostel in Salta and a rough itinerary, which included renting a car and spending a night at a winery owned by a friend of Morgan’s dad. The plans in general were shaky, but we figured we could plan it as we go. And I got a delicious tuna sandwich whilst planning. It was exciting putting everything together- but it didn’t sink in how incredible that trip would actually be until it was upon us Saturday morning.
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Thursday was our last dinner out as a group. We went to a Brazilian restaurant in Palermo, called Boteca or something, which was amazing and I plan on taking my Dad there when he comes to visit me in a week and a half (writing this in December, mind you.) I got some sort of Stroganov dish that was really tasty.
After we went to Lisa’s apartment for a brief while before going to Chupitos. At one point we had a giant, loud, group hug on a street corner that warranted some testy glares from nearby porteños. At the bar I was exhausted and headed home a little on the early side with Elaine and Morgan. It was a big night for Jasmine, Lisa, and Katie, but I surprisingly didn’t have too much FOMO considering how tired I was.
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Friday I was happy I had gone home early, because I went to meet Lisa and Elaine at Magdalena’s Party around 12:30 for a jam-packed day. They unfortunately didn’t have bottomless mimosas, since it was Friday, but we pounded some of their famous breakfast burritos before making a spontaneous/ambitious decision to head to the area near the airport to go to Tierra Santa, the religious theme park that we tried and failed to visit the week before. We found what was the right bus after asking several drivers, but he for some reason made us get off way before our destination? It was shady and we were really confused when we had to walk- a lot- to get to the right spot. Lisa was carrying her leftover breakfast burrito and a giant liter this whole time.
After playing some real-life frogger, we finally made it to Parque de la Memoria, a park dedicated to the desaparecidos during the military dictatorship. It was beautiful to be along the water, but solemn as we perused through the names of all the people killed.
We weren’t in any rush, so we meandered over to Tierra Santa at a leisurely place and were taken aback when we arrived. This place could have a post to itself…SHOULD have a post to itself. Walking in, there are all of these biblical statues with a fake-Jerusalem vibe. We paid our entrance fee, and were guided into a show by a park worker dressed like a gladiator. It was this weird baby Jesus scene with club lights and more automated statues and hymns blasting. And one really random buff dude.
We continued on our path, past fake camels, palm trees, catacombs, and crucifixes. A replica of the Western Wall, with the real one being in Jerusalem, was in the center of the park. I have been to the real one and wrote several notes to put in the cracks, so I figured I’d do the same for the fake one, halfway across the world. I scribbled “Argentina, gracias por todo.” onto a piece of notebook paper and shoved it between two bricks.
It had been awhile since Magdalena’s and we had worked up an appetite walking several miles, so we stopped for a snack and some wine (which was significantly cheaper than water) at a restaurant in the park. Our waiter was wearing Jesus-era clothing, whatever that means. At some point after the uneatable hummus was brought out to us (absolutely foul), the sun came out, and it got warmer and felt even more like a kitschy, fake Jerusalem!
Next, we walked through more weird caves to the souvenirs, which were selling Papa Francisco goodies galore. There was a nearby area with a bunch of places for photo opps, my favorite being the face-in-a-hole one which made our heads look tiny on our bodies.
We then learned that apparently you’re not supposed to go into the jail cell with Jesus. A gladiator-clad park worker came out and scolded me as I struggled to open the door from the inside.
Then, I had wandered off to take some photos when I made a phenomenal discover: GIANT JESUS. I ran to find Lisa and Elaine announcing “Guys! I found something VERY important! You need to come with me right now!” I brought them into the cave, where a creepy, weirdly proportioned Jesus with a glowing chest revealed itself to us. We died laughing. This was the pinnacle of the Tierra Santa experience.
Next stop, a final show with more animatronic figures doing a rendition of a Leonardo da Vinci-esque last supper. It was us 3 and then dozens of Catholic High School students and their teachers. Lisa sat alone next to a priest since it was the only open spot. It was hard to keep a straight face while surrounded by people meant to be taking it seriously.
We then circled up the fake mountain to see the crucifixion/ resurrection, and get a better view of all of fake-Jerusalem.
We explored a little bit more, but eventually it was time to go because Elaine and I had to go to our farewell dinner with API at 8pm. So we waited while the sun started to go down, creating a cool breeze and a lovely glow over the Rio. We eventually got a bus, but then had to transfer to another one once we got to Santa Fe. I got home only to have to leave 15 minutes later to begin saying goodbye at Carmen’s house.
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La Cena de Despedida, Friday night, marked the day I had been dreading since I realized I was going to be in Argentina for 6 weeks more than most of my closest friends. Morgan, Matt, and I had missed the welcome dinner because our flight got cancelled and we were stuck in Newark, NJ, so all of the good things we had heard about the food were finally confirmed- 3 and a half months later.
Patrick was the first to leave, because his flight was that night and he needed to get to the airport. We took two sets of pictures as a group- one with Jasmine, and one without (because she arrived in the middle of it)- in Carmen’s red living room. I’ve seen this picture for many other API groups at their goodbye dinners, and it felt surreal that it was finally our turn.
We ate and reminisced over the past 3 and a half months during dinner. Jasmine and Katie had prepared some “Alfajor Awards” for all of us, with a nice little card and speech and alfajor (of course). Mine was cute- it was most likely to fall into a ditch and get up laughing, a reference to the horrible luck I’ve had down here but my readiness to brush it off. Also a reference to the time I legitimately fell into a ditch in Mendoza. Jimena played a slideshow and the waterworks started to flow. Even from July and August, we all look so much older and wiser and weathered, because we’ve all changed so much as people. I was an emotional trainwreck. Slowly, people started to head out, but the core API group that always hangs out with (slash is obsessed with) each other remained.
Carmen kicked us out of her house essentially, because it had gotten late as we continued to reminisce and (at least I) continued to cry. Next stop was La Pirata: a bar we frequented that was where the July group kicked off our first real Thursday night when we got here. I was so full I couldn’t even think about getting a drink, which is probably for the best since I would have been even more emotional. We gave hugs and farewells over the course of an hour. I must have said bye to Becky at least 10 times, each time a bigger hug. After one particularly long embrace that we thought was the last one, we realized that we still had to walk to Santa Fe together.
I said bye to Matt, and then walked up the street to see the café (Molinos) we had all watched the sunrise in while mowing down on some pizza after Leo’s house one time and continued to lose it. God, I was a disaster. And I wasn’t even going home. But Katie and I made our last walk up Santa Fe together, somewhat of a tradition, and I begrudgingly made my way to my apartment to start packing for Salta…which I had to be at the airport for in about 6 hours. I packed, facebook crept the living hell out of the previous 4 months, and got somewhere around an hour of sleep before embarking on a final Argentine adventure with Katie and Morgan.
I am more than a month behind on this blog. That is a lot, considering the caliber of the month I just had. Between week long benders, saying goodbye to the majority of my API friends, my 10-day journey up to Northwestern Argentina and Chile, a beach weekend to Mar del Plata, and a whole lot of park-chilling with Elaine, I have a lot to say. So, let’s get started. After Ushuaia was my aforementioned bender, so I’ll hash out some highlights. (I have a calendar where I write little notes about all of these days- so it’s not totally off of the top of my head. That would be impressive, though, wouldn’t it?)
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Tuesday, October 29th was a long time ago, considering it’s December 1st. But I went to Antares, an artisanal beer place in Palermo that is a favorite of the kids in my class, for happy hour. Two pints of good, no, GREAT, beer for only 40 pesos…about $5 USD. Lisa met up with me towards the end and, after a grand process of trying to find my host family’s number when I had forgotten my cell phone, let them know I was eating at her house. She made some dank quesadillas and guacamole after a quick trip to the Chino (supermercado), then we had some Palermo brand beer before meeting our friends at Jobs bar, our regular Tuesday spot. I got Friday night drunk on a Tuesday and headed back to my apartment early, around 1:30, considering I had started at 7pm.
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Wednesday was obviously a little rough, but after a steady nap after class I allowed myself to be talked into going to Puro Bistro, a cigar lounge on Thames. It was a strange crowd and made for some of my funniest interactions in Argentina. A really drunk, scraggly man sat down at our table and started talking to us, but was visibly sad. He eventually got up, full drink left on the table, and hustled out of the bar. We were confused, but his friend later came up and explained that his girlfriend had just broken up with him. This girlfriend happened to also be a supermodel. Zaira Nara. Look her up- she’s beautiful. No wonder he was so sad. Turns out he was a lion trainer in Africa (or something) and a really interesting dude, but we couldn’t see past the homeless-looking vibe.
Another character then walked in… She was clad in barely any clothing and very tall stilettos, accompanied by a friend in glitter booty shorts and a fur coat. I immediately thought “oh my god this woman is a prostitute. What kind of bar is this?” But, the man sitting with us explained she wasn’t a prostitute- but a porn star. Ana Touche. We googled her and this statement was confirmed.
What was originally planned to be a 1am kind of night turned into a 4am night, and we ordered a hookah with absinthe, and were told an old man (who had previously told us he had a “sensitive ass” and needed to switch chairs with one of us) had sprinkled some “flores” into it, but I don’t think this was the case. Lisa got a cocktail, we drank sparkling white wine, and got a hookah… and weren’t charged a dime. When we tried to pay, the owner waved us away and insisted that he had us covered.
While all this was happening, I found out that the Red Sox had won the world series!! So I was very excited when I got home, and despite my hilarious, unexpected evening: a teensy part of me longed to be home celebrating with the rest of New England.
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Thursday, October 31st, meant that it was time for Halloween! I went to Once (pronounced On-Say) to buy halloween costume items at one of the various cotillion stores scattered throughout Lavalle. Originally the plan was to be Audrey Hepburn, so I bought a jeweled hair clip, long silver necklace, gaudy clip on pearl earrings, and long black gloves that were meant for a quinceañera. This was all meant to be paired with a high-necked black dress that I wore for the infamous Noho 1% party last year. But, come crunch time, I saved the Audrey Hepburn costume for November 1st and opted to go for a maxi skirt and Esmerelda-shirt to be a gypsy. My necklace doubled as a gypsy-belt and I wore the scarf my brother bought for me when he went to Turkey as a bandana.
First order of business, I hustled back from Once to meet with Katie and Morgan to plan our trip to Salta before our API halloween party. Not much planning happened, as we all showed up late and the wifi wasn’t working. At this point, I only had a half-assed pirate costume that I threw together for the sake of festivity before actually getting ready. Carmen and Jimena lugged out a giant suitcase filled with halloween items, and I donned a dementor costume while eating guacamole and cupcakes and alfajores. A disgusting amount of food. We talked and had a great time being festive in a city that just recently started adopting halloween traditions.
We headed out from API and I hurriedly got all my belongings together to head to Lisa’s Palermo Hollywood apartment with Katie to put a costume together (which was the gypsy costume I mentioned earlier). Some more of our friends filed in, costumes on, and we made our way to Malmec, which was hosting an Argentina for All event (AKA free entrance). I saw the majority of my classmates, which was an uncommon treat, and after drinking fernet out of a water bottle with Katie, it was time to head to the main event of the night: Club Nieto. On Thursdays, it becomes Club 69 and there’s quite the impressive drag show. Since it was a Halloween drag show, it was out-of-this-world. I was entranced. We got some 25 peso Quilmes and danced the night away to some great music while watching this performance.
We made a few trips back and forth to the bar, and I eventually got separated from the group while talking to a Swiss man I had met at the bar. We started dancing and, since I… urm… wasn’t paying attention to my purse, got my wallet and iPod touch stolen :(. This was a blow, considering my iPhone had been stolen the weekend before Ushuaia. Luckily I had spent so much money that night on covers and drinks that I only lost around 100 pesos, or 12 dollars (give or take). All my friends had left by the time I headed out, and I didn’t have my keys because they were locked in Lisa’s apartment. My credit cards, makeup, and raincoat were in there too. I had no credit on my phone, so I stopped some strangers on Fitz Roy to help me call my friends and try to get my keys.
It was around 6:30 when Lisa’s neighbors yelled at me to stop buzzing, and I made my way to my apartment. Defeated. I got medialunas in a cafe near my house, then waited on my stoop for an hour I knew my host-mom would be awake. So, at 7:30, I buzzed up and asked her to open the door for me. She wasn’t thrilled, but I went to bed and skipped class to sleep. This whole time I was still wearing a gypsy head scarf and a heavy smokey eye: very disheveled.
Despite its misgivings, I had a very fun halloween. One of my best nights. So many bad things happen to me here, I tend to just brush them off at this point.
0 for 3 on this one. Happy Halloween.
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Friday, November 1st, I got up to meet Katie and Elaine in the pouring rain to go to Tierra Santa, the Jesus theme park near the airport. We met in Plaza Italia, and I was raincoat-less, makeup-less, and had forgotten my umbrella. I bought a 50 peso yellow umbrella to later discover that it had ears and a cat face, so that was a pleasant surprise. After waiting for a very long time, we gave up. I was starving and drenched and had had an obviously rough evening getting robbed and whatnot, so we got cheeseburgers which eased the pain. Then I gathered my belongings from Lisa’s, bringing her some food because she had been throwing up from the Superpancho she had eaten the night before- the most infamous incident of “potato rain betrayal.” I had a full stomach and was reunited with my keys, so I headed home and prepared to be Audrey Hepburn for the night.
We went to the Shamrock. Which was definitely not a costume party. Got a few funny looks with my quinceañera gloves and updo, but I thought it was a great costume. Made it a little modern by pairing it with Vans. I was very popular at the bar that night, spoke a lot of Spanish and made a lot of friends. Talked to a man about genocide for like 25 minutes at one point? Uplifting conversation… Katie had all of my stuff in her purse and left, so I ran to Casa Bar to find her. We meant to go home and call it an early night, but since I was bummed about losing all of my things (my jacket had been a casualty of the evening), we went to get empanadas. We had gotten 4 pollos between the two of us when these two Brazilian dudes sitting next to us invited us to share a bottle of wine with them. We did, and then they paid for our empanadas, too. It was great. Walked outside to see sunlight. So much for an early night.
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Saturday, November 2nd, was one of my “dinner for breakfast” kind of days. I got out of bed, showered, and met up with Katie and Lisa to go to an asado at JD’s house- who is in API technically but lives with Argentines and has a Colombian girlfriend. It was our last Saturday night as a cohesive group, because the following Friday marked the end of finals and the end of our program. Played some good ol’ American drinking games, ate my body weight in roasted veggies, and danced around and enjoyed the company. Nice, tranquila night with friends. Walked home and ended up at my house surprisingly fast. Katie and I posed with some street art I had seen on my Graffiti Mundo tour a month before and were laughing hysterically. Things I miss: all of me & Katie’s walks back to our respective Santa Fe apartments.
_______________________ Sunday, November 3rd, marked the end of this 6-day bender, but I went out with a bang. I met Lisa and Katie at Magdalena’s party at 11:30- before the grill even opened. What drew us there, though, was the bottomless mimosas offered for 60 pesos a person. We crushed quite a few of these pitchers, and kept them coming after we all ordered slightly varied breakfast burritos. Mine without beans, and with a side of avocado. Great decision. Magdalena’s breakfast burritos are unbeatable. The waitress gave us a funny look as we kept drinking mimosas, and poured our final one into Katie’s nalgene to have it to-go.
The three of us hopped onto the Subte, where Lisa and I proceeded onto the San Telmo fair while Katie met with Elaine to go to Matadores- another fair about an hour away. We met with Morgan around Casa Rosada, still making dents into the mimosas, and then bought a liter of Quilmes to make a nice redneck-mimosa.
I didn’t have much money at San Telmo, but Lisa and Morgan needed to do some souvenir shopping so we all had a blast perusing around. Favorite purchase: Lisa’s mate gourd plastered with Papa Francisco’s face. We also ran into Becky, who had just bought a big knife as a gift.
The liters kept flowing, and eventually it was time for dinner. We got DANK pizza and wine, and had a beautiful walk to Casa Bar to watch the Patriots. We crossed some of the places that had made up our initial tour of Buenos Aires in July- back when the city was new and golden and we had no idea what to expect/how to get around.
At Casa Bar, we got lots of cheap drinks- because that’s how they do it there- and watched the Patriots win in a landslide victory. Once again, the company made the day. I’ve missed Lisa and Morgan a lot since they’ve both gone home.
After drinking for more than 12 hours, it was time to go home and prepare for my final week in Buenos Aires with my friends before I went to Northwest Argentina on Saturday morning.
One of API’s main attractions for their fall (or spring, from down here) programs is a weekend excursion to Ushuaia, a place often referred to as “the end of the world” because it’s as far south as you can go while remaining in civilization. This trip was particularly special for all of us because, unlike the rest of our travels this semester, everything was paid for, planned, and we were ushered along like children behind their parents. It was awesome.
I dusted off my winter jacket from under my bed and packed a bag full of winter clothes to ready myself for the drop in temperature. Our only responsibility was to be at one of 3 meeting spots by 4am, where a bus would scoop us up and bring us to the domestic airport. Katie overslept and got door-side service when the driver parked the bus outside her apartment while Jimena ran to the door.
I was running on an hour and a half of sleep and a big coffee and was loopy tired, feeling like a crazy person while boarding the plane in the dark. The sun started to go up as we took off, and as we reached cruising altitude it was a fireball in the middle of the sky. The flight went smoothly, and as we landed I proudly announced that my travel curse had been broken- with the first leg of the journey always serving as the issue. Before hitting the tarmac I had no fear, because the terrain below was out-of-this-world. I watched in awe as snow-capped mountains filled my peripherals, dotted with lakes and rivers. Touch down itself was similar to Logan, with the runway omitted for a body of water. We stepped off the plane into crisp, Arctic air- something wholly different from that of Buenos Aires.
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You know, I made a video for this trip that can do it enough justice because I am very far behind.
So, without further ado, here is Ushuaia in a nutshell:
Day 1, got off the plane and went to the mall for breakfast after getting settled in. The view was incredible for such a commercialized spot. Walked around, soaked in all the sights. Went grocery shopping for beers and snacks. Matt and I got lost trying to bring all of our belongings back to the hotel and asked what felt like 30 people for directions. We got lunch, then climbed a mountain in the afternoon: complete with snow. Drank a beer with Matt while climbing aforementioned mountain. Dinner, we cooked and drank but sort of ran out of food. No one had slept in a long time, so that was a priority.
Day 2, PINGUINOS!
We woke up & got on a boat to see some penguins and sea lions. It was cold and harsh with unforgiving winds and smelled like low tide and I loved every second of it. After, got some lunch and chilled for a little while before going to the prison, which is now a museum. Ushuaia was originally a penal colony, so it encompassed the origins of the city. After, Marrisca and I had breakfast sandwiches, we ate some guac, and hung out and drank wine all night. Jimena came to join the party for a while, which was cool.
Day 3, Tierra del Fuego
After a hearty scrambled egg breakfast (two portions for myself), we packed our belongings and did some light souvenir shopping, enjoying the sun before it poured on us. We got some lunch, ate it in our one hotel cabaña we still had, and loaded into a van to take us through Tierra del Fuego National Park. It poured, yes, but was lovely nonetheless. Saw some beavers, cool lichen, and mountains at the end of the earth. Boarded back onto the bus and went to the airport where there was less security than some of the boliches I have entered here. Took about 15 seconds. Loved flying over the city at night. Always a magical sight seeing that there’s no end to the lights over the massive metropolitan area that is Buenos Aires.
My first week in Avanzado (starting Monday, October 21) was a welcomed relief from the grammar bombardment that was Intermedio 2. No longer would we endlessly go over different modos de subjuntivo and talk about a book I had no intention of reading. The things we learn in Avanzado are meant to refine our speaking and writing, and also covers a lot of slang and cultural differences. Lunfardo, the slang specific to Buenos Aires, has been so helpful to learn. It hadn’t been taught to any of us in any previous Spanish classes in the US but is so thoroughly woven into porteño speech, it’s sometimes hard to understand people without some knowledge of it.
As a class, we got moved to the University of Belgrano building on Zabala, instead of our old Lacroze location. At first I was really amped about this, but there are so many stairs, unfriendly porteño students, and a much more impersonal cafeteria experience. And it’s a solid 2 blocks farther from the Subte stop on Cabildo. I do run into my API friends a lot more frequently, and I feel like I go to real school now, but a part of me misses our little prison-home two blocks away.
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The weather had been getting warmer, so Tuesday (Oct 22) I got ambitious and decided to go for a bike/run to Rosedal. The system was broken for the bike rental place, so that was a no go, but I ran over there regardless. Without a doubt it is one of the most beautiful parts of the city. People are always exercising, whether it be running, biking, skating, or rollerblading, around the pond. I heard drums from across the water, and thought I had recognized Kevin and Ziyad from my class, so I headed over to find them playing for a group of Argentineans who had crowded around them. I stayed for a bit before running back, loving the perfectly manicured rose garden I had to cross to get back to the road. Got home to watch some spanish game show with Cecilia which I got a lot of the answers right! She was impressed.
That night, I went to Jobs bar for 3 chopps for 30 pesos. It has become a sort of Tuesday tradition since then. It’s filled with international students, so going there feels like stepping onto the 10th floor of UB. Being only a block or 2 away from my house, it is easily the most accessible bar for me in all of Buenos Aires.
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As I started my post about Jasmine’s birthday and Burritos and La Bomba, I mentioned I was sitting in Tea Connection, eating a Planchado and sipping on Mango Peppermint tea. That was that Wednesday. It was absolutely pouring outside and I could not have thought of a better/more productive rainy-day activity. And the food….Amazing. This blog has almost become a chore to write in, but I know I’ll be thankful when I have it to look back on.
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Thursday I spent preparing for Ushuaia, which I left for on Thursday night/Friday morning depending on what you want to call 4am. Which I will write about shortly- I’ve got to go plan my trip to Salta and Jujuy with Morgan and Katie right now! 🙂 We leave on Saturday morning!
If any of you guys didn’t know, I’m taking solely Spanish classes down here. No history or literature or sociology. Just language. I began in Intermedio 1 in July, only a step above Básico, and started Intermedio 2 when I got back from Perú. Well, when I got home from Córdoba it was time to embark on my final week of Intermedio 2 before moving up into Avanzado and the big building at the University of Belgrano.
After immediately coming back from my trip in time for class, there was nothing happening that afternoon. I came home and napped, put up pictures, and tried to recuperate from what had been an amazing but draining weekend. The trend continued into the next day when, instead of studying, I worked on the Oktoberfest video from my previous post, skyped Nina for the first time in a long time, and did a whole lot of not studying. Using my weekend as an excuse was working for me, and after Thursday and Friday I was done with exams (which went okay) and was ready to celebrate!
Thursday, the 17th, after a trip to Xoom and home and back again to Belgrano, Katie and Morgan and I met to buy our tickets to Salta! We’re leaving on November 9. We shelled out vasts amount of cash, namely Katie who also bought her ticket to Lima for her Peruvian volunteering adventure, and were running on a travel-high. We got cakes and empanadas and frozen yogurt to celebrate. I’m so excited, especially now since the date is fast approaching. Originally, I had bought a return flight for November 14th, but have since changed it to spend the weekend in Northern Chile to November 18th: the following Monday. This marks my largest vacation-within-my-vacation yet at a whopping 10 days!
I skipped the API gives back event on Friday, October 18 because I didn’t want to take my Intermedio 2 oral exam early. It didn’t go awesome, but not terrible, either. Afterwards a few kids from my class and I celebrated with herbal tea from Tea Connection, and then vegetarian Indian food at this place called Krishna in Palermo. Great vibes, great food. This was the turning point for me when I realized that although the majority of my friends were leaving in a few weeks (writing this now, a few days), that I’ll be able to continue to have a great time in this amazing city because everyone is really welcoming and fun to be around. That being said: I’m still dreading losing my API family on Friday.
After a brief visit back to my apartment to change into my fancy clothes (for the event afterwards), a bunch of the Intermedio 2, who had just become Avanzado, students and I met at Antares, an artisanal beer place close to Belgrano. We spent happy hour on the terrace and each drank 2 beers for only 40 pesos. Also got some french fries, which came in handy in weakening my buzz before meeting Katie’s parents….
…who then took Morgan and I (and obviously her) to dinner at a pop-up restaurant in Belgrano because they were in town. The food was earth-shatteringly delicious, with unique course after course being brought out and complemented with several bottles of Malbec, straight from Mendoza. The company made the meal though. Katie’s parents are just like her, and Morgan and I loved meeting them and seeing where she got her humor and confidence and personality.
After, we said our goodbyes to the ‘rents, even though we had invited them to come out with us. Bellies full of food and wine, we hit the planetarium. It was all lit up, changing colors and reflecting into the nearby pond. Murmurs of a full moon party/drum circle led us there, but we were told it had happened the night before and headed out after some low-key whiskey-swigging by the water. (As it turns out, the party wasn’t the night before and all of the kids from my class were there drumming and drinking until the sun went up. Oops.)
Katie went home, and Morgan and I pressed on to meet our other friends at a shot bar called Chupitos. The party had already gotten started by the time we arrived. Met some interesting characters, per usual. I was at one point the definitive judge in an Argentine argument about the pronunciation of Sean vs. John vs. Shawn. We spent some time there, I took a shot but I totally forget what, but eventually we were asked to leave when the security guard caught us with a flask in the bathroom.
Next stop was to Lisa’s apartment in Palermo Hollywood. The game plan led Elaine, Jasmine, Lisa, and I to a nearby boliche called L’Arc. It was a blast. The 50 peso entrada didn’t matter because we were transported into a whole other world when we entered- bass pumping throughout your whole body with crazy light shows and smoke. The four of us danced like complete lunatics, and anyone who came up to try and join we (not so) kindly asked them to leave. Elaine’s belongings at one point were scattered all over the floor, and some gracious man brought them back to her. My iPhone was not so fortunate, and was stolen and never to be seen again. It was the only time I had ever taken it out at night, too.
I fell asleep on the bus ride home and awoke to Elaine shaking me when it was my stop, and the rest of my next day fared the same. I stayed in bed refreshing Find My iPhone, which picked up a signal at Burger Joint so I know the thief was on the move, until I gave up all hope. I got out of bed around sundown to go to an asado at Matteo’s house, an Italian exchange student who’s also at UB. It was fun, a needed tranquila night in the wake of L’Arc craziness.
Sunday, Elaine and I wandered into about 5 cafés before deciding to ditch tea time altogether and go for Mongolian stir fry at Gengis’s House…which was SO satisfying.
And Monday marked the beginning of the end. My third and final level of Spanish in Buenos Aires. Sta… Sta… Started from the bottom now I’m here.
Córdoba: Friday, October 11th- Monday, October 14th ….Or should I say “Oktober”?
The night of Thursday, October 10th, we began what would become a weekend for the record books. As is the case with the majority of my trips and activities here, I had next-to-nothing to do with the planning process and had no idea what to expect. I paid Katie who bought my bus ticket for me, and Lisa who had booked the hostel, and went along for the ride.
Any overnight trip I have been on since my flight here has had something go wrong on the first leg of the journey there. My curse continued into what is hopefully its final chapter. Our bus broke down on its way to us, delaying us 2 hours. Not as bad as the Newark, Lima, or Mendoza fiascos, luckily. By around midnight, we were bound for the center of the country.
The bus was quick by our standards- only 9 hours. We weren’t given dinners… and I was living off of crackers that I had stashed in my backpack at the last minute. When we got to the station in Córdoba, we raced to the hostel to ready ourselves for Oktoberfest activities. Brushing our teeth, washing our faces, and changing our clothes would suffice since there was no time to shower. First stop was to the grocery store to buy alcohol to smuggle into the festival. I loaded up with some Quilmes and had brought a bottle of wine and fernet while still in Buenos Aires, and was ready to go. We took taxis to the terminal, since we had missed our bus while trying to walk there, and luckily were able to change our ticket times. It was really hot, and Katie and I used the ice cold Quilmes cans I had bought as personal air-conditioners.
Our hostel in Córdoba was two hours away from Villa General Belgrano, where the Fiesta Nacional de Cerveza is held. Katie used this time to befriend the guys sitting next to her, two Córdobans named David and Leo, and a Russian named Denis. They ended up hanging out with us all day and were a great bunch of characters.
Villa General Belgrano was not crowded on Friday. We knew going into it that obviously people had jobs and couldn’t up and leave to go to a beerfest during the week. We were strolling down the street from the terminal to the entrance of the festival, leisurely sipping on our beers and looking to buy mugs, when a police officer told us we couldn’t be walking around with drinks. Confused, because this is not the case in Buenos Aires, we asked if we could finish our beers quickly instead of throwing them away. The cop told us sure, that he wouldn’t expect anything less. So, our Oktoberfest experience began with a police officer telling us to chug our pints.
We bought mugs, funny German hats, and tickets- and were ready to go. We got a table with no problem, and got right to it. I opted for the Barley Wine, which got the day started off on a high note considering it is 10% alcohol. I made a representation of this day that can do it more justice than through words:
And here are some photos:
Upon leaving, Katie and Morgan and I stayed behind for whatever reason. On the walk to the bus terminal, we got hungry and distracted. After walking into several restaurants and leaving, we settled on a pizza and empanada restaurant where we stayed for 45 minutes while, unbeknownst to us, our friends were waiting for us at the terminal. Random Cordoban men gave us empanadas and life was good. We finally got on a bus, and arrived back to Córdoba- soaked and freezing (after dancing in the rain which can be said in the video above). Matt, Philly, and I had the worst cab driver. He drove us far, far away from where we needed to go. So far, it took another 25 peso taxi ride to get us back. And the second guy dropped us off 4 blocks away from the hostel!! What are we paying you for?? But we got back safe, and went right to sleep on bare mattresses without bothering to make any of the beds in our 8 person hostel room.
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Saturday, nobody was prepared to do a second round of Oktoberfest. We all woke up somewhat early, considering we didn’t get home very late from the night before (one of the benefits of day-drinking), and hopped on one of our many buses we took that weekend. The destination this time was Cuesta Blanca, for hiking and hanging out by the river. None of us had experienced nature in some time, so a tranquil day in the outdoors was welcomed.
There wasn’t a huge rush getting ready, and we enjoyed our breakfast and exchanged stories and memories from the day/night before around the hostel. We grocery shopped, wearing our fun-amplifying German hats, and waited in the crowded bus terminal to roll out.
We got dropped off in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere without a guide or a direction or a plan, and set off for the peaks of one of the many mountains surrounding us. Along the way we found sort of a trail, but our legs were hardly spared and were ripped apart by the many thorned plants around.
It was cloudy and the view from the top wasn’t mind-blowingly pristine like some of the Andean experiences we had all been fortunate enough to experience, but we ate our sandwiches, dabbled in lettuce wraps, and did some exploring around the top.
By the time we had eaten the majority of our food and had satiated what had become hanger (hungry-anger), we descended down to the nearby river to kick off our shoes, wade around, and lounge on the beach. It wasn’t a typical beach day, as it was cloudy and pretty cold, but beautiful nonetheless.
The walk back was longer than expected and we boarded the bus after quite the wait. There was a group of American study-abroad students there all speaking Spanish, even to each other. It was weird. But, I guess they’re probably better at it now than their obnoxious English-speaking counterparts (my group).
The drive back, as was the theme for the rest of the bus rides, consisted in some serious iPod jam seshes. Before we knew it we had gotten into Córdoba. Okay, not so much considering it still took about 2 hours. But it was still a drop in the ocean in the grand scheme of things considering how many buses we ended up taking that weekend.
Immediately after stepping off we made a game-time decision for Middle-Eastern food across the street. Decisiveness at its finest because the meal ended up being fantastic. I devoured my two courses in record time.
On the walk home, we stumbled upon a plaza filled with tangoers. Since the entire group, excluding me, had a tango class together, some of them took this as a practice opportunity. Wearing hiking boots and silly hats and surrounded by fancy dresses and older couples, they held their own. Kind of. Not really, (no offense, guys). But, the effort was there!
Lisa, Matt, and I slinked off early to get our things prepared for our heavily debated 6:30 wake-up. This was key considering how cramped our hostel room was, as there was barely enough ground space for half of the people to stand at once. Empty liquor bottles, smelly damp clothing, and the rest of our belongings coated the floors, and a crowd would not have helped the situation. I was in bed early despite all of the things happening (loudly) around the building, but fell asleep quickly and stayed that way.
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Without a doubt, Sunday was the most ambitious day of the weekend. We all had different priorities but meshed them successfully: with La Cumbrecita first on the list. After waking up at the crack of dawn, showering, and going the ever-frequented bus station, we drove until we hit Villa General Belgrano, the location of Oktoberfest, in order to catch another bus. The station was already crowded -much more crowded than Friday- and the festival hadn’t even started yet. So excitement was brewing. Our Cumbrecita plans were almost squashed when we discovered that the bus was full and that there wouldn’t be another one for 2 more hours. But luckily they let us stand in the aisle, colectivo-style.
The drive there was scenic- filled with farms and sun and mountains. La Cumbrecita itself was adorable. First we all agreed we needed some food. I had an amazing super pancho, the Don Carlos, sin mayonesa, with scrambled eggs, bacon, and potato rain (or lluvia de papas).
We started a hike with no real destination after lunch. Taking a slight side-turn led us to the waterfalls, where we lounged and contemplated jumping in. No one followed through, but we observed some braver souls.
The hike pressed on, but Matt was wearing Sperry’s and Lisa and I were more concerned about making it to “home base” in time to change into our Oktoberfest clothes, so we headed back. Obviously we got slightly lost, because this is Argentina and happens everywhere I go, but we spent some time chilling on a river before we found our path back. Beer seemed like a good way to reward ourselves for our successful navigation to the entrance, so we returned to our lunch place and killed a quick liter of Brahma. Also: saw the world’s cutest puppy (his name was Moro).
A quick change out of hiking clothes and into a dress, while still rocking the German hat, and we boarded our bus back to Villa General Belgrano. Oktoberfest was in full swing. We swigged some fernet and some of our beer we were smuggling, bought our tickets, waited for Matt to buy a new mug since he had shattered his on Friday, and in we went! We had no expectations of staying together the whole time, but somehow were successful.
Round 2 of Oktoberfest was less sloppy than day 1 since we were now seasoned experts. The beer selection was much wider, and so we tried different brews instead of drinking the hard alcohol and Malbec we had brought in our backpacks. As the day progressed, I became a professional crowd guide to the bathrooms. A new talent I never knew I had. There were obviously funny things that went down this day, but most notably we convinced a group of Argentineans that we were Japanese and mowed down on superpanchos. Lisa then, according to my flip cam, did yoga with a stranger. We socialized and were being generally merry, but there’s no way I could express that into this post. Especially weeks after the fact.
When it came time to go home, the “Pancho Crew,” I guess, made it back to the train station where I ninja-purchased tickets as soon as one pulled in. Katie and I fell asleep on each other’s shoulders and it was surprisingly restful sleep. Then Lisa was getting hit on, but not really, by her Argentine neighbor who wouldn’t stop talking to her. Again, according to the flipcam, something about Thanksgiving. We got a taxi home, and Katie got some ice cream and we raided the hostel fridge HARD.
It was such a funny day/night, but mostly because of the company. The same with the weekend as a whole. It was a nice change of pace to not have a vacation centered around seeing things and having lofty cultural experiences. Winging it and hanging out with your friends can be underrated. Obviously my big, grand trips I’ve taken here were incredible and definitely more memorable, but there’s something to be said for kickin’ it. All of us appreciated it for what it was.
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The next morning there was no pressure to be productive. With how much we had accomplished the night before and how much beer we had drank, even Morgan was ready to relax. We took yet another bus to Villa Carlos Paz, where we were told there was a river to swim in. It was sunny and hot, HOT, on our walk to said river, which was several miles away.
As we approached the riverbank, the skies opened up and rumbled with thunder. I personally was starving and so when it started to pour on us, I spearheaded the initiative to walk back to where there was food. After waiting it out for a little while, the other ladies and I started back. Unfortunately we were in the midst of siesta… where everything was closed. Finally we encountered a pizza restaurant, where, unbeknownst to us, we were about to have one of the strangest dining experiences of any of our lives.
We sat down outside, because naturally the rain has subsided as soon as we got to our destination, and perused the menu as one would normally do. Katie and Jasmine really wanted to have salads, and I was fiending for a napolitana pizza. Katie wanted to swap out the chicken in her salad for a veggie option and the waiter’s face switched into a look of great concern. He muttered some spanish, as if this was a big deal. After some more bargaining, it turned out that the chef was “very difficult” today and couldn’t make salads at all. What kind of restaurant does this? An Argentine one, that’s what. He went in to ask, and didn’t emerge for upwards of 20 minutes. We theorized that the chef was beating him senseless in the back for making such a request. He comes back holding the “final offer,” shoving it into Katie and Jasmine’s faces, telling us that if they don’t want it then he’ll have it for lunch. With some added miscommunication, this came across as “I’m giving you my lunch.” They accepted this final offer, and Lisa and I ordered our pizzas. Our waiter emerges again and tells us that they’re out of tomatoes. At a pizza restaurant. ?????????. So I changed my order and we all ate our meals laughing hysterically. One of my favorite lunches of all time.
Paid the bill, made our peace, graciously thanked our waiter, and walked back to meet the boys at the river. We sat along the banks for awhile, choosing not to swim because of the garbage and millions of tadpoles. But we had a great time, once again, just kickin’ it.
Then it was time to make the several-mile trek back to the bus, which was unbelievably green. Like, absurdly green.
After one last jam sesh, we got back to the hostel to gather our belongings and catch our late night bus back to Buenos Aires. Got back just in time to go home, shower, and go right to my class!
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This entry can only serve as a skeleton of how much fun we had but, trust me, it was awesome.
I’d like to start this post by apologizing to Morgan for stealing his blog-title-alliteration two posts in a row. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, my friend.
Monday, October 7th
The Expanish kids, the ones from California, were all at Iguazú, so the 6 of us who were left out of my 20+ person class got to leave at 11:30. Julia and I took this opportunity to venture into Palermo for some good eats. I initially had burgers (namely Burger Joint- which I will mention later) on the mind, but was open to other options. We opted for Burritos at the California Burrito Company, some authentic Argentine cuisine (ha). Since it was a beautiful spring day, we had no responsibilities, and there was a good deal on it, we split a liter of beer. Mind you, this was basically Argentine breakfast time. The burrito options were fabulous and I was very satisfied. I’ll probably go back soon, because there are other toppings I want to explore.
I took a colectivo back home and a woman offered me her seat, I think because she thought I was pregnant. Worth it.
Later on, Katie and Morgan and I went to La Bomba de Tiempo. On the way there, we stopped to get empanadas since I hadn’t eaten dinner and ended up talking to the owner of the restaurant for 20 minutes about his travels across North and South America.
In regards to La Bomba itself: It was the second time there for Katie and I, but this time it was warm enough for the ensemble to perform on the outdoor stage of the Konex venue. It never disappoints. You can feel the rhythm in your whole body, with the percussion sometimes hard to follow because it’s so intricate. This time around, they brought in a singer who was absolutely incredible. Afterwards, we ran into a friend that Katie and Morgan had met in Iguazú. Small world, huh? We declined the offer to go to a boliche with them and instead went and got beer and ice cream.
Got home and dinner was waiting for me. Score.
The next day, Tuesday, started out as a normal day in Intermedio 2: struggling to pay attention, drowning in tenses of subjuntivo, and texting and facebooking while we discussed the previous night’s assigned chapter of La Villa which I didn’t read. Katie and I got teatime at this cool café/bookstore in Palermo with an impressive selection of teas. I opted for cinnamon, she got raspberry. Phenomenal. Then we walked 7 or so blocks in the wrong direction down Thames.
Wednesday, I finally went to Burger Joint after fiending for it for as long as I’ve been here. It lived up to every expectation I had and then some. Guacamole, carmelized onion, peppers, mozzarella, tomatoes, bacon, all on a juicy patty cooked to perfection. The fries were the perfect amount of crisp. The walls were covered in marker from previous visitors, something I took interest in as it was only a few days after my graffitimundo tour. I could eat there weekly. Maybe daily.
It took me a while to get home because I ended up walking the wrong way down Thames yet again… ending up on Cordoba instead of Santa Fe. After 3 months here I have a decent sense of direction, but these things happen and (I’m sure) will continue to happen.
That night we finally went to the Whiskey and Cigar bar that we had been talking about since our first day here in July. Puro Bistró was filled with cushy leather armchairs, candles, and cigar smoke. Amazing.
Becky and I left to go to Mundo Lingo a few blocks away at Soria, but it was unfortunately pretty desolate. We left and passed Puro Bistró at the exact moment our friends were leaving. ¡Que suerte! While we were gone, they got free sparkling wine and another cigar. Lucky bastards.
Thursday I could have gone to class. I wasn’t out all that late, I wasn’t hungover, I didn’t really have anything to do…But it seemed like a good time to sleep in an extra hour and have some lounging time before I headed off to Córdoba for the long weekend. I packed my things, cleaned up my room, and got all my ducks in a row before our departure.
The gang all gathered for tea time at Café Tortoni, the famous notable cafe on Avenida de Mayo, to greet Riley- Marrisca’s boyfriend- who was there for the weekend. I got lost on my way there. That part of the city is and always will be a mystery to me. It’s so overwhelming, especially when it was as hot out as it was on Thursday. I made it there eventually, and Morgan again recommended me a meal which I loved. It was a turkey pie, essentially. Satisfying, filling, and would serve as my dinner despite eating it at 5:30 pm (but I’ll get to that part later).
We said our goodbyes, went home, and would reconvene again when it was time to meet at Retiro station to start our journey to Córdoba and Oktoberfest!
Okay so the past few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind, hence why my posts became more infrequent. Or stopped altogether. Whatever you want to call it. This, as always, is a daunting task to begin. I’m currently sitting in a café, sipping on Mango Peppermint tea and pushing my laptop’s battery to the limit, contemplating how to approach it. I have a lot of homework I should be doing, but my loyal fans (AKA my parents, grandmother, and Rachel Fishman) are more important! These have been my best weeks in Buenos Aires yet, and it would take days to recount the full extent of it. To start, the first weekend in October was one of the best. So, split in two between this and my last post, here it is:
Jasmine’s Birthday! Saturday, October 5th
After waking up early for Tigre, having no downtime before going out, going to bed around 8am, I woke up and immediately threw on my most rainbow-pirate outfit I could muster for a birthday scavenger hunt. Jasmine, as you may recall, turned 21 that previous Tuesday. What better way to celebrate than to saunter around the city doing silly tasks for points?
We convened at the Recoleta cemetery, famous for it’s mausoleums that almost resemble a city street, at 5:30 pm. Practically morning, considering I woke up at 4. Becky, Katie, and I were one of three teams and we were ready to go. Some things that went down:
Beatboxing.
Becky licking a sidewalk.
Silently interpretive dancing while strangers filmed us and then called us crazy.
As these strangers watched, Katie pretended to poop next to actual dog poop.
Katie asking a McDonald’s worker for extra-large condoms.
Chasing a runner down the street…He was faster than I thought.
Katie kissing an Argentine Kiosco worker (while behind the counter of said Kiosco)
Making a human pyramid and not having anyone to take a picture of it.
Running around the city asking every single porteño we encountered if they knew how to tango, and accidentally catcalling a few men in the process, wore us out. Before we knew it, it was 7:30 and time for a tea party at Jasmine’s Recoleta apartment. We, quite strangely, had to take the elevator to the first floor (because the ground floor, or PB, is considered 0) and were greeted by the infamous Sofia. Jasmine’s host mom is old- very old- and comically bigoted. She is an exemplary magnified version of the bluntness so common among Argentines. Racism aside, she was very welcoming and adorably sweet. She told me that my accent in English was beautiful, so that was a first. We had snacks, tea, and played a few games before meeting at Benihana for Sushi.
First of all, I walked into T.G.I. Friday’s before realizing I was in the wrong place. Goes to show how unfamiliar I’ve become with estadounidense restaurants. I am a total sushi noob so I let Katie and Morgan take the lead as we shared 3 different rolls. Morgan also took the lead in my drink choice, some sort of a lime freeze smoothie, and I was not disappointed. We accidentally ate Lisa’s sashimi because of poor plate placement and we had some of the worst service I’ve ever experienced, but at least the food was great!
We departed Alto Palermo, the mall that houses Benihana among other American chains, and were pregaming openly while waiting for a 39 to take us into Palermo. Crushing bottles of wine, champagne, and a fair share of Fernet, we found ourselves bored by the long line at Chupito’s and went right to a boliche (club) called Rabbit. Jasmine’s porteña friend Natalia had made reservations and so we skipped the line, got in for free, and got a free bottle of champagne which we luxuriously popped into the crowd. The club itself was crazy. Crowded, disorientingly huge, and an absolute blast. Since it was so loud, it was almost impossible to talk to anyone- and we danced for hours and hours. I at one point was phoneless and separated from all of my friends by a sea of people, but miraculously encountered them shortly after. Truly miraculously- since it was hard to decipher which of the three floors you were on because of the elaborate stair layout. Me and my pirate shirt made it out around 6, and I once again got home after sunrise. I successfully convinced my friends to take a cab with me, which was nice. Also uncommon. Awesome birthday celebration all around.
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To jump back to the present for a minute, I’m eating the most incredible merienda right now. Whole grain toast topped with cream cheese, a fried egg, tomatoes and avocados. I’m in heaven!
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Graffiti Mundo: Sunday, October 6th
I didn’t feel so great waking up on Sunday morning. I was sore from dancing and exhausted from not having any downtime for a few days. But, Jasmine had made plans weeks ago to go on a graffiti bike tour around the city so I knew I couldn’t bail. We accidentally circled around the Jardín Botánico before finding the bikes and I secretly hoped that we would miss it. But we stumbled upon our tour guide and bike guide by the entrance. After a crash-course in bike traffic safety, we were off to our first destination: a sprawling mural that is constantly being added to. Located on the back of a hospital. There were pieces from visiting and local artists alike, coexisting in an eclectic and chaotic fashion.
I was still not feeling great, but it was a beautiful day outside and I was excited to see the rest of the art.
The street art scene in Buenos Aires is very unique because, although technically illegal, it is widely accepted. Without the threat of fines or arrest, artists can take the time to create intricate pieces that wouldn’t be possible in other cities. A street art culture has emerged because of this. This next piece is painted on the side of an abandoned building, occupied by squatters, and successfully transforms an eyesore into art.
We biked through barrios I had never visited, each with its own individual personality. Buenos Aires, during the springtime, is spectacular and charming and inviting. Our guide took us place to place, explaining each piece and sharing anecdotes about the artists. The results of this burgeoning street art culture are pieces that are destined to be temporary, as artists will repaint over their own works and the works of others. Murals are constantly being tagged and graffitied, also, so the canvas is ever-changing.
As the day went on, any doubt I had about doing the tour had totally disappeared. I was so happy that we had found the bikes in time. We ended in Palermo at a gallery-within-a-bar, called Hollywood in Cambodia.
We returned our bikes to a parking garage on Santa Fe and bid farewell to our guides, who we had gotten a chance to get to know as our tour progressed. If you’re in Buenos Aires and interested in this tour, which I wholeheartedly recommend, HEREis the link!
I went to a café and indulged on some empanadas and watched the soccer game, the Superclasico, which pits rival teams River and Boca against each other. I went home and was so tired that I could barely open my eyes or mouth at dinner.
And so ended the first weekend of my blog-drought! Hopefully there will be more to come soon…I have a whole lot of homework to procrastinate doing 😉
Tigre: Friday, October 4… Jesus I’ve got some catching up to do. I had already had this one half written, so I may as well finish it, but you all are getting some very brief highlights after this one.
I had seen the Facebook event for Tigre on Friday and wasn’t particularly excited about it, but it turned out to be one of my favorite days here. Tigre, an hour train ride north of the city, was a beautiful break from the city.
Tigre is composed of small islands, with rivers serving as streets. “Como Venicia!”
The guides gave us life vests that looked/felt like bulletproof vest, perfect for chest-bumping, and they set us off in our canoes.
My boat, the larger of the two, was overcome with song and loudly sang, a few different tunes. It all started out with the quite appropriate “Just Around the Riverbend” from Pocahontas.
First stop: a quick snack break along the river. They fed us some tea and cookies as we relaxed along the water, comparing the area to the Louisiana Bayou.
Next: la casa de Domingo Faustino Sarmiento, the former president of Argentina and the man on the 50 peso bill. His house has been encased in glass and turned into a museum.
Then it was time to ditch the canoes and get onto one of the boats that frequent the river. When we lowered ourselves down, our backpacks already there waiting for us. The windows were open, wind was in my hair, and I was feeling great. We shared some mate and leisurely cruised our way to the home of one of Gabby’s friends.
An older couple welcomed us and gave us choripan and mouth-watering tenderloin sandwiches along with an assortment of toppings. I was ready to burst by the end, but then we got dessert. Luckily it was fruit salad and not too filling. We all basked out on the dock along the river for awhile before changing into bathing suits and taking a dip. Well, a jump more than a dip. We jumped, swam against the current, and at one point floated on an air mattress as a pool float.
After we were satisfied with our tanning and our swim, we worked our way to a brief tour, through palm trees and sun, to other parts of the shore. The group frolicked around with our new dog friend, then made a human pyramid. We hopped on a boat and headed home.
Katie and I talked with Gabby for a long time, my first venture into academic subjects in Spanish, and I was honestly impressed with myself and how far I’ve come since July.
The sunset on this ride was nothing short of extraordinary:
Upon getting back to my apartment I showered, ate a quick slice of pizza, and headed out to an asado at our Italian friend, Matteo’s, house. Fernet and wine were flowing freely, and eventually it was time to hail a taxi and dance the night away in a Cumbia club. I cannot dance cumbia, a sort of electronic salsa popular among the lower classes, so I didn’t dance all that much. I did meet a porteño with a British accent, so getting a chance to flirt in my own language was refreshing. I ended the night in some random plaza with Katie and some porteños at 7:30 in the morning, walking into my apartment to see my host family awake and starting their days.
Buenos Aires, Argentina 